


Dedusmuln's Dossier

by bombcollar



Category: Hylics (Video Game)
Genre: Everyone is here! - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29318187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar
Summary: A helpful guide to both friends and foes, written by everybody's favorite leech archeologist, Dedusmuln.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Dedusmuln's Dossier

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago but completely forgot to post it until now.
> 
> Big thanks to hylicord for all the feedback. Some entries were written by other people.
> 
> The Hand of Moodbleen and Carassius entries were written by TheVelvetUndergrowth, who has written a number of wonderful fics you can find on this site.  
> Fonthintrelpine's entry was written by @ratsratswearetherats.
> 
> Not free of spoilers.

To whichever soul may be reading this (unless you're me, in which case, hello again Dedusmuln!) I do hope it serves to prepare you for an encounter with some of the great many entities roaming this land, friendly or hostile. I have been keeping small dossiers on each.

 **Wayne** \- Our de-facto leader, one of many of his kin, alike and yet different. Although an ambivalent and somewhat distractible fellow, he nonetheless keeps us moving forward. He has matured a great deal in his time since we first dislodged the moon king, and I do like to think we had some positive influence on him. Oh, but this is all mere opinion. He keeps to himself largely, and does not discuss his feelings on the Gibby situation, which I believe to be highly entangled.

Wayne's physical abilities do not differ greatly from the rest of his kind, though his signature gesture Dissolution helps to abate an enemy's flesh and might, causing their meat to slough off of them. It's quite gruesome. I often wonder why someone of such mild manners specialized in such a thing.

 **Pongorma** \- Something of a relic himself, as a former Dread Knight of Yiithorn, a kingdom that no longer exists. Pongorma has never been able to disclose his true age, but I believe him to be truly ancient. Although somewhat sullen and with a penchant for violence, he is nonetheless levelheaded and I appreciate his air of fatherly authority. Without a homeland to return to, he wanders, slaying monsters wherever he is needed. Although he has been offered a permanent home by all of us, he insists he hates to be idle.

Pongorma now eschews the blade in favor of one of the most formidable gestures: Lightning. Although the damage he deals is invaluable, I worry at times that he overexerts himself, channeling such mighty energy through his limbs.

 **Dedusmuln** \- Your author and esteemed archeologist, forever seeking to foster understanding of the old world, no matter the danger of the territories I explore. With my trusty foam widget, I fear no attack from the local wildlife. Hirudinea such as myself do not excel in physical combat, preferring to provide support, and I have no problem admitting such. Presently I am searching for a cabinet, an interactive artifact that was supposedly capable of storing a great many treasures from the era of the Sages within.

Just between the two of us, I am with larvae right now, but I do not think I will mention anything to the others, lest they worry overmuch for me.

 **Somsnosa** \- An old friend of my colleague Wayne, Somsnosa can be prickly, both physically and personally, and does not open up easily to those she isn't familiar with. Her affinity with insects lends greatly to her newly-chosen profession of juice farmer, and I am so very glad to see her renewed passion. Her collection of skeletal remains is quite impressive too.

Although she has forgone the gauntlets that allowed her to derive might from insects, she's still a terrifying presence on the battlefield, able to use her Wave Artifice to strike multiple foes with the very earth itself.

**Old Wayne** \- Do not be alarmed by his many-eyed visage! Old Wayne is a kind soul, and embodies an unusual life stage for the Wayne species. I have been told there is only ever one Old Wayne at a time, and upon his death, an existing Wayne will experience a sudden secondary pupation and become the new Old Wayne. He is a benevolent presence, overseeing the training of the other Waynes at their base, the aptly-named Waynehouse.

I have never witnessed Old Wayne lift a hand in combat, but I can only imagine what a terrifying sight it must be! Even Gibby's minions dare not bother him.

 **Wayne Larvae** \- You may notice these odd larvae skittering about in all sorts of places. This is the larval form of Wayne's species, a form they spend a good deal of time in before they pupate and attain their bipedal adult instar. They love a good pat on the head, or to nibble on whatever you happen to be eating. As long as you are gentle with them, they won't do you any harm. They can deliver quite the nip if you're too rough, or if your vibes are rancid. Wayne larvae are often observed scraping minerals from the earth with their mouthparts.

Some poor souls, unfamiliar with the Wayne species, may take them home, thinking them mere wild animals, only to be surprised one morning with a fully-grown Wayne standing in their kitchen. Don't make the same mistake! If you find a wayward larvae, kindly return it to the Waynehouse.

 **Smuldunde** \- My dear mentor! I owe Smuldunde so very much for giving me a chance and allowing me to intern on their expeditions. Their brilliance cannot be denied, their knack for discerning ancient writings is envied among all others in our field. There were quite a few artifacts considered lost to time until Smuldunde got their tendrils around what little information existed.

It is for their sake that I am so intent on finding a cabinet in working order. Long have they spoken of their desire to 'navigate' the cabinets and uncover their secrets. I owe them as much for their support and friendship.

 **Blerol** \- I believe Blerol is loosely considered to be a lord of some sort, holding the highest office in the city of New Muldul. To me he comes across as rather decadent, but in a fun way rather than a wasteful one. He is well-liked among the citizens and is known for throwing extravagant parties upon his airship, which we could see the evidence of as soon as we stepped inside. Never have I seen so many spirits in one place! He didn't even seem upset that Viewax had kidnapped him. Either he truly is the most easygoing ruler out there, or he misunderstood the situation...

 **TV Priests** \- On this odd little isle we discovered what I have been referring to as the "TV priests" as they did not provide us a formal name for themselves. They are disciples of the Sages, gathering antennae plundered by Gibby's minions in order to rebuild the Sages' tower. They told us how they've studied a great many gestures, but have taken an oath of noncombativeness. That's all well and good for them, but I personally cannot wait to see how this charging gesture affects my foam.

 **Caretaker** \- These robed figures look after the Wayne larvae in the Afterlife, as well as help those who've died traumatically recover before they return to the surface. They have become a common sight aboveground as well, formerly trapped in the afterlife due to the absence of warp pools. One in particular that we encountered had the ability to combine items, wizardry not seen since before the Accretion!

 **Transformed Citizens** \- During Gibby's original reign, the world's slide into madness was a gradual one. Day by day people would lose the ability to form coherent thoughts, finding themselves unable to articulate themselves or remember their names or those of their friends and family. I saw some of the finest minds I'd ever known gradually soften into sludge. Some never quite recovered.

This is nothing like it was before. The moon was a distant satellite, but the Hylemxylem hovers close enough to be seen through the clouds. I was wholly unprepared for what awaited us back on the surface, the sea of shifting gray bodies, the constant babbling and shrieking as they flounder about. I do not know by what mechanism we were spared. Perhaps the strength of our Will, or the fact that, being dead, we did not receive the brunt of the waves... I do not wish to overly ponder it. There is no time to waste. We must find a way to destroy the Hylemxylem, before the terrestrial juices are sapped. Who knows what effects might linger for those who spend too long in such a state?

 **Sage of Monitors** \- I have been unable to discern any clear answers for this, but it’s my theory that the Sage of Monitors is an entity of one mind and many bodies, many fleshy, floating red faces. They seem to possess individual consciousnesses, but many screens may show the same image at the same time. Perhaps there is also some connection to the cabinets we also found at Viewax’s edifice... 

**Sage of Accretion** \- Residing deep beneath the surface on the island of Foglast, this Sage makes their home at the sight of the first Accretion, the remains of unearthed terrestrial juices forming the shifting pink sands. When we inquired as to why they had not removed Odozier’s operation, they said such matters were simply beneath their notice. While I do understand that this must seem insignificant in the eyes of a being so long-lived, it makes it no less frustrating that they can’t, or won’t, lift a finger to help us.

 **Sage of Satellites** \- This one was a doozy to get to! After hours, if not days of puzzling out that labyrinth, we finally found a passage to what appeared to be a section of the afterlife. We found the Sage resting on the beach, as it had been foretold in a furtive cabinet Smuldunde discovered. Oddly enough, they bear more than a passing resemblance to a Wayne, and the moon itself was indeed a satellite... At least, the old moon was, before the Accretion, not Gibby’s facsimile. I suppose anybody can ascend to Sagehood.

**Tyro** \- Monocular little creatures, hard-working and dutiful, though prone to falling in line with miscreants as they are easily plied. Their unique ability to call upon stronger allies means they are not to be taken lightly. If faced with a group of enemies that includes a Tyro, it is highly suggested that you take it out first, lest you swiftly find yourself outnumbered. If sufficiently intimidated, they may flee from battle. Some Tyros have eyes, and some do not. Even they don't seem to know why.

 **Cave Cineast** \- Common, cave-dwelling bipeds often recruited as muscle by followers of Gibby. They can easily be bought with a few cupcakes. While skilled with their signature glaives, they pose even less threat than your average Tyro. They seem to take great pride in their facial hair, and like to compare beards when they aren't trying to chase me out of my camp.

 **Poolman** \- Poolmen are strange beings comprised of milky liquid, which turns black as ink upon their defeat. If threatened, they may split themselves in twain, and in twain again, until any foe is overwhelmed by sheer numbers. They are quite weak to flame, though, and will not split as long as they are burning.

They are a blight upon hylethem-harvesting operations, compelled to feed upon the fronds in a manner similar to addiction. It is, perhaps, fitting then that their remains may be cultivated into Poolwine. Despite its adverse effects, Poolwine is highly sought after. Wayne has told me of a "distillery" that used to exist on the moon before his banishment. Even if Poolmen are considered pests, such a thing would be most unethical.

 **Truculent** \- Limber and striking in their black and white-striped markings, Truculents use their long limbs to deliver powerful kicks, their movements dance-like and entrancing. They're also capable of dropping onto all fours and running their foes down with frightening speed. I am told they can be quite diva-ish at times, unwilling to share a team with another of their own kind.

 **Post Dog** \- These brutish fishdogs are pests and scavengers, crawling up from the waterline at dusk to prey on any individual unlucky enough to be caught out after dark. Their hooked fangs can deliver a wicked bite, and they only become more dangerous when fought back against, becoming enraged. They are far too vicious to be tamed, though that hasn't stopped certain folks from trying. My college Somsnosa often deals with them skulking about her ranch, trying to pick off any young or sickly juice beasts.

 **Squid** -First found lurking in the maze containing Fonthintelpine, these floating mollusks were difficult to avoid when trying to navigate the area. They possess lacerating mandibles and caustic ink. 

**Highway/Road Fleam** \- Racing on razor-sharp pointed legs, Fleams never seem to stop moving. They are common in flat terrain such as deserts or beaches. Though swift, they are frail, and rarely pose much of a threat, though they tend to travel in packs or along with stronger creatures, even offering themselves up as weapons. We encountered a pair in the labyrinth, alongside the Motor Hunter.

 **Feral Hydrostat** \- 100% fewer bones than your average feral mutt and 100% meaner. Their bodies are composed entirely of hydrostatic muscle, making them capable of slipping through the smallest of cracks and wreaking havoc upon your domicile. Their fingerlike mouthparts can deliver a powerful bite, despite a lack of teeth. They are not to be confused with the regular Hydrostat, who are well-mannered folk, achieving many prodigious positions in society.

 **Hand of Moodbleen** \- An incredibly rare species, these solitary solifuges crawl their way through the darkest depths of the underground maze. It’s assumed that those strange glyphs floating around their arms exist to help guide them through their environment, but that hypothesis has yet to be confirmed. There were a scant few we encountered up in Foglast, most likely taken there either to be bodyguards or used as fresh specimens for Odozier’s future experiments. I do prefer it be for the former reason, for I do not think my poor imagination could handle those beasts becoming any more gruesome than they already are! 

Anyhow, these predatory entities attack entirely with their six clawed hands, which they use to mercilessly slap and slash at their victim’s glands. Yet that clobbering is nothing compared to their Cranial Glom gesture. The pain one’s head endures when squeezed by it is intolerable, and worst of all it made any attack we attempted hit like a wet biscuit!

 **Silmavog** \- These fragile creatures act as healers for their allies, handing out stem cells like candy at a pupation party. They are little threat on their own, able to inflict vulnerability but not much else. Their physiology resembles that of a mollusk, their metallic sheen provided by a shield of mucus that covers their entire body.

 **Coutured** \- I have scarcely met a more frustrating creature. These slug-like beings also act as support, inflicting lag, but more than that they are capable of rendering themselves inviolable. Any attempt to harm them causes them to counter, snapping their shield open on whoever dares attack. Damage is inevitable unless the shield is dissolved, but luckily they don't pose much of a threat on their own, merely a nuisance.

 **Jaded Mycetic** \- These shield-headed creatures appropriately tend to summon shields for their party, as well as functioning as healers. Why they're known as being "jaded" I could not say. They did not seem any more forlorn or cynical than any other creature we encountered.

 **Poolmagne** \- One of Odozier's "creations," this crowned Poolman is nothing more than a stronger version of the same thing. Both flame and dissolution are effective against them. They hold themselves in very high regard though, believing they've been promised a place in Gibby's court in exchange for being used as test subjects. If you ask me, it's much more likely they'll be aging in his wine grotto.

 **Warpo** \- This is terribly unfortunate. A Warpo is what becomes of a Wayne larva when fed poolwine, the vile substance forced down the poor little thing's throat. In addition to inducing blind aggression, it causes their carapaces to swell and splinter as gas builds up in their bodies, sometimes enough to make them float. They pursue their targets singlemindedly, only to rupture shortly thereafter, killing them and likely anybody in the vicinity.

The one silver lining of this whole sorry situation is that larvae who become warpos will end up in the afterlife once they explode. They can then be rehabilitated, though their caretakers tell me they remain rather shaken by the whole affair.

 **Carassius** \- Some pesky perciformes we encountered in the ancient halls of the labyrinth as well as in the Hylemxylem. Like all fish, they’re far more intelligent than they let on, so don’t allow any of those ‘xylem swimmers to try and convince anyone that they were naive victims! I guarantee you that they certainly joined Gibby’s forces on their own volition to further bully those they deem inferior to themselves. They primarily rely on their knives for attacking (although how they hold them with their fins remains a mystery to us), but I have since discovered that they tend to prefer stirring up a Solvent Vortex upon their foes. Words cannot begin to describe the frustration I’ve felt having pulled off a successful charged Foam Armor for our crew, only for all of my hard work to be washed away in an instant and replaced with all of us coated in dissolution. Argh! The only compliment I’ll grant those hoity land-swimmers is that their flesh is quite tasty when sautéed and pan-fried.

 **Ectrolan** \- These many-tendriled creatures are infamous for the sleep spores they emit whenever they feel threatened. If you anticipate an encounter, a good strong cup of coffee is sufficient to keep one awake throughout. However, they also employ poison in the tips of their lacerating lashes! They're indiscriminate with their spores and will carelessly send the rest of their party into slumber, making it easy to pick them off one by one once the Ectrolan is dealt with.

 **Foliated** \- By far one of the most irritating foes we've faced yet, one touch of these sinuous creatures' filaments renders a person completely indisposed, unable to fight, flee or do anything but lie in a heap until they recover. They must be taken out immediately to ensure your entire party does not become a pile of inanimate flesh! Considering they are only found upon the Hylemxylem, I imagine they are another creation of Odozier’s. Sages help us if they ever make their way to the surface.

 **Saouplit** \- Loyal minions of Gibby, many of whom have already given their sanity over to him. They babble endlessly about the Hylemxylem and cast lightning upon anybody perceived as an unbeliever. Their conformity is symbolic of their idolatry, re-molded into faceless, horned beings, reborn into madness. I cannot imagine what sort of sad life someone must lead to willingly subject themselves to such a thing.

 **Galliform** \- These feathered beasts make their homes on high cliffs, defending their territories with their acidic vomit. Never have I experienced such disgust as I have upon being drenched with their fluids. Ugh! Even now it makes me shiver to think about it. They're incredibly swift for their size, too, which has led to them being used as mounts by Blerol's guards, though even when tamed they remain bad-tempered. At least they're delicious when grilled.

 **Coiffed Stalker** \- The Stalker certainly lives up to its name. It seemed like every corner we turned in the Sages’ labyrinth, they were there, following us with their jaunty gait. We could hear their footsteps click-clicking off the walls. It made it impossible to track where they were until they were upon us. Although they may look furry, even cute, they have a hideous attack where they vomit frothy, acidic fluid all over your entire party. Certainly not fitting pets in the least!

 **Courtier** \- You must disregard everything I've said about healer enemies in the past. I forgive all of them, even the Silmavog. If I so much as think of this little elf's mincing dance moves my glands become filled with rage. I shall never be able to enjoy another hot dog without remembering the tube steak manifold. That blasted manifold, undoing all our hard work. 

**Noncomfornist** \- By far one of the strangest foes in Gibby’s forces, one whose body parts do not physically connect to one another, an ever-posing and fidgeting creature that Wayne described as “like a rockstar.” I suppose I can see it in the way they twirl their firearm, like they’re putting on a show. He even tried asking one if it wanted to “get together and jam sometime” but alas, it shot him directly in the face for his troubles.

 **Bomelaug** \- Anybody who listens too long to these creatures’ yammering risks going mad. They blither and blather to the empty air, waving their twiglike appendage around and producing volatile homunculi. It’s no wonder they were attracted to Gibby’s cause, though it’s questionable whether they understand what’s really happening or not. 

**Viewaxian** \- Fellow members of our old friend Viewax’s species. How they managed to secure a coveted spot on the Hylemxylem while he rots on the planet before, I’ve no idea. Then again, perhaps he was not satisfied being a mere grunt, and decided that he would play baron instead? I could only ever hazard a guess, but frankly, it strikes me as more sad than interesting that seemingly this entire population of Viewaxians has decided to throw their lot in with the deposed king. 

**Viewax** \- A giant hairy twit who thinks just because he's got a big tower to sit in that he can go around kidnapping whoever he likes. The dollop of power he was given went straight to his furry head and now he thinks he's hot shit just because he's got a bunch of Tyros that listen to him. Constantly sent his minions to harass me while I was setting up my tent. He seems to take sadistic pleasure in causing Leakage, and would carelessly strike his own minions down just to try and land a blow on us.

 **Odozier** \- One of the highest-ranking members of Gibby's entourage and the one personally overseeing his reconstitution. An odious toad if there ever was one, but a powerful wizard nonetheless. He is far more lucid than I expected any minion of Gibby's to be, though. He kept mumbling about" giant clay feet" during the battle, which unnerved me greatly. 

He and Pongorma seemed to have some shared history, though Pongorma refused to tell me about it. Perhaps he'll open up to me another time.

 **Casoro** \- I scarcely have the words to describe this beast. Even before its wrappings peeled back we were assuaged by the reek of putrefying flesh and stomach acid. I do not know by what dark sorcery or science Odozier conjured it, but it's by far one of the most nightmarish things I've had the misfortune to encounter. Beneath its casing it is nothing more than an ambulant pile of guts, glistening with ichor as it lurched about the arena after us, spewing all manner of caustic fluids. It burned my chematophores just to be in the same room with it. I had the profound impression of something driven mad by its own existence, though it did become visibly enraged when its master was taken down. I'm not sure which is more disturbing, the thought that it exists as nothing more than a vessel of pure wrath, or that there is some mote of intelligence entombed in that pile of rancid meat.

 **Fonthintelpine** \- Even I wasn’t sure of what the mysterious “shield worm” would look like- all we knew was that it was somehow powerful enough to generate an impenetrable protective energy shield to cover all of Foglast, hence its name. Yet, when it manifested before our crew after the signal horn was blown, I was still taken aback by the sheer scale of this writhing creature that towered above us in that damp, dark room...

The top of its segmented body was covered in wiggling tendrils, pulsating in and out, that seemed to make the air feel almost staticky- perhaps this was the energy source that was able to power a shield so large? Its small eyes protruded, and were occasionally covered up by four long, thin structures in place of eyelids, similar to the fleshy tendrils on its back and snout, opening and closing like a flower, almost. Its whole body moved from side to side, each segment following the one before it with a slight delay, as it used its miniscule yet powerful legs to rapidly advance, its long nails clicking against the long, winding worm pod path. It was a truly harrowing encounter as we were forced to navigate the tiny platform without falling off as well fighting the beast itself!

I am not aware if more than one Fonthintelpine exists, or what will happen to the worm pod now that we’ve vanquished this awful, lengthy foe. However, I, personally, would prefer not to encounter anything of the sort again.

 **Motor Hunter** \- The very last thing we expected at the end of this twisted, exhausting labyrinth was a car... Or at least, something in the shape of a car. We've faced a great many strange and horrifying foes on our journey, but this thing... Something about it was _wrong_ , the way it seemed to be all one hunk of marbled, flexile flesh, driver and vehicle part of the same organism. Wayne, similarly shaken, described in great detail to me how the shallow pits where its eyes ought to be seemed to be watching him nonetheless. I do not know for what reason it was down there, if the Sages left it as a guardian, if it was imprisoned or if it was simply making its home there, but the given name of "Motor Hunter" implies some intrinsic prey.

 **Gibby** \- I had no idea what we would find on Foglast, what sort of shape Gibby would take upon his resurrection. In a way, I did not want to know, which is very rare for me. Some things simply should not be tampered with. Although the line between life and death here can be foggy, this clearly crossed it. 

Our old foe bore no resemblance to the man we faced in the moon palace. Old Gibby was tired, he was cruel, but he was flesh and bone, something I could understand. This thing was raw, uncured sinew, something unfinished, wrenched from death’s grip. We hardly had time to comprehend what we were seeing before he blasted us all to smithereens!

However, there are reasons I believe him taking such a form is not the worst outcome. If he looked more like his old self... well. See my entry for Wayne. It is much easier to destroy something unfamiliar.

I shudder to imagine what might have happened if we had not fought him before he finished absorbing the terrestrial juices. Gone are his cosmic gestures, gone is any sense of dignity from this lurching, spewing thing. If he had not spoken to us before the fight, I would have doubted this was still Gibby in any way, shape or form. 

I do hope this is the last we ever see of him, for his sake and everybody else’s.

  
  
  
  



End file.
